


Troy and Whittle in The Evening

by mat



Category: Community (TV), Super Mario & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-12 23:50:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mat/pseuds/mat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twenty years after leaving Greendale, Troy is living with his boyfriend, a whittle from the Tall Trunk Galaxy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Troy and Whittle in The Evening

“Honey, I'm home!” Troy called down the hall, throwing his bag onto the nearest surface. “How long till dinner's ready?” He sat down on the dark green living room sofa and started leafing through a magazine from the coffee table. Somehow, it was older than their apartment. “What is this, a dentist's office?” muttered Troy.  
“You wish,” joked Whittle, bounding in from the kitchen, “Lay-back chair.”  
Troy stared into the middle distance. “Yeah, those chairs would be cool to have around! As long as they were more comfortable. No padding in those things.”  
Whittle laughed and kissed Troy on the head. “Meatballs,” he said, returning to work.  
“Meatballs again? I thought we agreed you wouldn't be trying to make any more shapes without corners.”  
“Meat blocks.”  
“Now that, I'll try.” Troy followed Whittle into the kitchen and ventured into the fridge for a drink. “So, how long will it be?”  
“Hmm..” Whittle thought through the numbers. “Thirty minutes.”  
“Sweet, I'll go grab a shower and we'll eat. Unless you want to join me?” Whittle replied to this with a look which was all the answer Troy needed. “Right, waterlogging, sorry. I'll be right back.”

“Work good?” asked Whittle, hastily making his way quickly through his first round of meat blocks.  
Troy was being more cautious, moving the blocks around on his plate first to make sure everything was thoroughly dead. He didn't want a repeat of the lobster incident. “Work was good. This one guy came into the store with his toilet's closet bend pipe stuck on his arm. It was hilarious. I helped him out and we made plans for next Friday to catch a ball game together.”  
“Next Friday?” asked Whittle.  
“That bad?” Troy said innocently.  
“Friday ours. Robot fight. You promised.”  
“Oh, I guess I did, huh? Oh well, we'll catch the next one.”  
“No next. One only. Robots fight.”  
“Yeah, I get it. Oh, geez. I guess I'm gonna have to cancel on you, I'm sorry.”  
“On me? Why me?”  
“Well, Jerry already has his tickets. What's he going to do with them now if I cancel?”  
“Watch game.”  
“Okay, so he's one of these really competitive guys who can't watch a game if he doesn't have any stake in it.”  
“So what?”  
“So, I made a little wager...” Troy looked around the room coyly.  
“You bet?!”  
“I know I used to have a problem, but this is different. This is my game! I know what I'm doing.”  
“No, Troy.”  
“What, Whit? You want me to back out on this thing? I'm already committed!”  
“Finally, commitment.” Whittle slammed his knife and fork down on the table for emphasis.  
“What's that supposed to mean?”  
“Marry me.”  
“Whit, we've talked about this.”  
“Love Troy.”  
“I love you too, honey. I just don't feel right for marriage right now. I don't even really understand the point of having a piece of paper to prove our love.”  
“It romantic.” At this, Troy and Whittle fell simultaneously into a thoughtful silence. 

“How much?”  
“How much what?”  
“You bet.”  
“Not much.”  
“How much?”  
“Five thousand dollars.”  
“I leave.”  
“What?”  
“You heard.” Whittle climbed off his chair and started putting on outdoor clothes, heading for the door.  
“Honey.”  
“No, Troy.”  
“You can't leave, we have that dinner with Elijah and Melanie tomorrow. You can't disappoint them.”  
Whittle turned around.  
“Fine. For them.”  
“Thank you. Now, let's finish eating, okay? I don't want all this food you spent time preparing to get cold.”  
“Okay.”  
“Okay.” Troy smiled a weak smile, walking Whittle back to the table and taking his small coat. 

Troy hated fighting with Whittle, but that was just part of being in a relationship, wasn't it? They'd been together long enough to know each other so well that they recognized each other's boundaries. Each knew how far the other would go, so there was no point stretching that line too far when it wasn't necessary. Marriage, however, was a point Whittle was willing to break a boundary for, and Troy knew it. Even if he was a gambler and could be insensitive at times, Whittle still loved Troy and he wanted to prove it. Troy might not have needed a piece of paper to prove his love, but that piece of paper remained important in Whittle's eyes.

That evening, in bed, Troy leaned next to Whittle, who was lying awake with his eyes open, and stroked his leaf softly.  
“Hey, how about some make-up sex for today?” Troy arched his eyebrows suggestively.  
“No. I think we break up,” Whittle replied, not meeting Troy's gaze.  
“What? It wasn't that bad, was it? I mean, we fight all the time.”  
“Yes, we do. It bad.”  
“It's not bad, it's just what couples do. You wouldn't expect Fred and Wilma to break up, would you?”  
“They divorce.”  
“Oh, marriage, again?” Troy turned and let his head hit the pillow.  
“Important, Troy.”  
“Not to me, it isn't.”  
“Then have to.”  
“Break up?”  
“Yes.”  
“Can we at least get through tomorrow? We can't ruin dinner for Melanie. She bought fish for us and everything.”  
“We talk after tomorrow.”  
“Okay. Good night.”  
“Night, Troy. Do love you.”  
“I love you too.” He was facing the other way now, but he could feel Whittle's unhappy expression as he drifted into unconsciousness.

“Troy, Whittle! Please, come in! How are you doing?” Elijah's greeting was as sincerely enthusiastic as his smiley face bowtie. “Melanie's in the kitchen fixing up our grub, but she might need some help from me once it's time to make my patented ice cream doughnuts for dessert.” He said this last part loudly so anyone in the kitchen might hear.  
“Oh, man!” exclaimed Troy, “I haven't had your ice cream doughnuts in so long! Really awesome, man.”  
“It's nothing, really. Here, let me take your coats. Hey, cool tie, hombre!” Whittle was wearing a rubber duck tie; they shared a common fashion sense.  
“Thanks! Yours cool, too.” Whittle smiled brightly and looked around the room. “Looks nice here.”  
“Yeah, we did the place up all fancy last month. Apparently that retro feng shui thing is coming back in a big way. You two interested in interior design at all?”  
“No afford,” Whittle said, glaring at Troy.  
“Haha, we're doing fine,” Troy said quickly, not wanting to bring their issues out today, “Our place is just small, you know?”  
“Yeah, I guess there's not really that much you could do with it,” said Elijah. “Drinks!” he said suddenly, making Troy jump a little. “Who wants wine? We just got a new bottle. '06.”  
“Sure, I'll take a glass,” said Troy.  
“Okay,” said Whittle. He didn't really want to drink it, he just didn't want to be asked all night. Plus it gave him something to hold as a social prop. Elijah and Melanie were mostly Troy's friends, so Whittle often found himself lacking anything to say.

“How's your mom?” Troy asked as Elijah poured the glasses.  
“Always great, always great,” Elijah replied happily, “She's always talking about getting a Shirley's franchise set up in that shop next to yours.”  
“Hey, you know there's no territory there for a sandwich shop as well as she does.”  
“I know, I think she just misses you, is all.”  
“Well, she can visit any time she likes, just make sure she brings a few samples with her.”

“Whit! Troy!” Melanie came bouncing in from the kitchen with arms open wide for hugs. “Eli, why didn't you tell me they were here?”  
“Well, you were so intent on getting that salmon right, I didn't want to disturb you.”  
“Well, you should have. Whit, how's that peking duck recipe I gave you? Great, right?”  
“Delicious!” Whittle said sincerely. Troy was lucky he wasn't the one asked; he'd never been a great liar.  
“Great! Well, the salmon's almost ready, so why don't you all take a seat and I'll you up some tasty.” She disappeared back into the kitchen and Elijah and the guests took their places at the table. It wasn't long before she was back with four dishes stacked precariously across her arms. “Hope you're all hungry!” she sang, trying to control her speed on the way to the table.  
“Hon, do you need some help?” Elijah offered.  
“No, thanks, sweetie. I got it.” She reached the table and placed the food before the diners.  
“Looks good! Smells good!”  
“Thanks, Whit! Salmon's so difficult to get nowadays, but it's not too tough if you know where to look,” Melanie said, brushing her finger against her nose. “I see we've all got drinks. Anything else we need? No? Then let's dig in!”

The dinner proceeded happily, with the two couples laughing and joking and sharing memories and old times. Tales of Troy's old ball games, Elijah's old ball games, Troy's adventures with Elijah's mom and the rest of the Greendale gang, stories from Whittle's enigmatic past. A good time was had by all, which was particularly troubling to Whittle.  
“Oh, you guys are the best couple,” Melanie commented innocently, “If we all got along as well as you, the world would be an easier place.”  
“Aw, it's not all easy,” said Troy.  
“No, I didn't mean to make it out like that, but you guys are doing great together, right?”  
Troy and Whittle looked at each other uneasily.  
“Honey, we shouldn't pry into others' private lives,” said Elijah.  
“No, it's fine. We're doing okay. We've just been talking about our relationship lately, that's all. We're actually thinking about marriage right now.”  
That got Melanie excited and Whittle annoyed. “Marriage? Oh, that's so exciting! Well, good luck to the both of you and I hope I make it onto someone's bridesmaids list, hint hint!” Melanie laughed and stood up to collect the plates off the table.  
“Yeah, Melanie's right, good luck to you both,” said Elijah. “Marriage isn't easy, believe you me.”  
“Thanks, man,” said Troy and looked at Whittle apologetically. He was having none of it. “I guess it's time for us to be going, then.”  
“You can't stay for one more drink? Whittle?”  
“Okay,” Whittle said, “One more.”

Getting home later than they expected, Whittle and Troy set off straight for the bedroom to settle down for the night.  
“We did okay tonight, huh?” Troy said, pulling his shirt off over his head.  
“Yeah,” said Whittle, who had only a tie to remove, but was having trouble anyway, “We good. Well, okay.”  
“But we won't be okay forever, will we, Whit? Not really.”  
“Not know, Troy,” said Whittle, climbing into bed.  
“Me neither, honey,” said Troy, falling in after him and wrapping his arms around his wooden head, “I don't know either.” He kissed Whittle's head and fell asleep in his arms.


End file.
